


Capgras Syndrome

by sharklion



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V
Genre: M/M, don't date your love interest's doppleganger from another world, ygoshipolympics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-06 22:52:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4239717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharklion/pseuds/sharklion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Capgras Syndrome- A delusion in which a person is insistent that those around them have been replaced by exact duplicates.  Or maybe, it's not that something is wrong with Shun.</p><p>---<br/>"This isn't the right world.  I don't <i>belong</i> here."</p><p>Reiji's smile, if anything, was wider.  "No, you don't."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Capgras Syndrome

With his sunglasses down and coffee steaming up the darkened lenses, it blocked out the world around him. Shun could pretend the world beyond was nothing but darkness and fog, and the shop's coffee machine's grinding was the muffled noise of heavy machinery. He could pretend that the world hadn't shifted suddenly and bizarrely into the mundane. 

His eyes slid closed for a moment before they shot open again. He took a swallow and pushed his glasses away to rub at his eyes. It was late and Shun wasn't a dreamer. 

He believed in facing the world as it was— and if that meant going to a _home_ where he'd face a girl with his sister's face but a new name, and an overenthusiastic father he didn't remember. . . If it meant going home to seeing Yuzu and Shuzo, who called him Shun affectionately like he was anything but a stranger. . .

"Kurosaki."

A voice cut into his thoughts and he didn't move his hand from his eyes to react until a suspicious moment too long had passed. Across the table, Akaba Reiji had taken a seat across from him, with his own cup and was watching him speculatively. Shun stared back, silently, at the intruder on his thoughts, and then spoke when it was clear glaring at him wasn't going to make him leave. "There are more tables over there." He jerked his head to the ones sitting empty, but he only looked amused.

"It will be closing time soon. There's no reason to settle in when I won't be staying. But if you wish to speak with me, we won't be interrupted at my place."

His instinct was to tell Akaba to fuck off. Akaba had been the one to sit down and strike up a conversation, Shun had just been trying to finish his coffee and think. Add to that he was cryptic and closed-mouthed about everything except shit Shun didn't want to hear. . . He was the last conversation partner he'd want. 

But he'd sat down without prompting and offered Shun what he wanted most— an excuse not to return to the You Show Dueling School, and a place to go instead. Somehow, even for all the petty grudges he'd accumulated against him, temptation was a platter he was still skilled at serving. He eyed Akaba for a moment, trying to figure out his intentions, but he had no idea of how of the context he remembered still applied. It was a worthless endeavor. "Fine." 

Akaba nodded, and made no motion to get up, instead taking a long sip from his own cup. He spoke only when he finished. "Once I'm finished, we'll go."

Typical inconsiderate Akaba. 

It was almost comforting, after days of Yuzu and Yuya trying to cater to him, get him to talk about what was wrong and cheer him up. He didn't particularly care about offending Akaba, and without sad eyes set in his sister's face making him feel guilty he had no reason to hide his distaste. He scoffed and scowled at him, and drained the rest of his drink in one draught. "You're holding me up."

"Mm." It was an unhurried noncommittal. Of course, he was refusing to be rushed. 

And not having any idea of where he meant to lead him, Shun had no choice but to sit there, waiting and watching Akaba finish, his lips on the rim of the mug— porcelain, which marked him as a regular. He remembered Akaba as a shut-in: rarely out mingling unless there was no helping it. This was at odds with that, unless he had brought the mug himself just now. His swallows were occasional and unhurried— not gulps taken to inject caffeine as quickly as possible into the veins. He mentally ran through all the details of his observations, searching out and feeling for the edges of what didn't match, out of habit more than out of any care. 

Yuzu and Ruri's differences were obvious— the name they didn't share, the way she knew nothing about him even while she called him her brother. Was it the same, somewhere else, Ruri wondering where he was? Ute scraping his way along, not knowing what to make of the stranger in his friend's skin?

Thinking about Akaba was a safer endeavor. The uncalloused hands were the same, the red rims of his glasses. He was suddenly tempted to say his name aloud, and test if it was the right one. And then it occurred to him—

Akaba had called him Kurosaki. Not Hiiragi, like everyone else had been insisting on.

There was a chance he'd heard it from others, about his "strange behavior" lately.

But there was a chance he hadn't.

Akaba stood, the mug in hand, to return it to the counter for it to be washed and kept for him here, for another use. Shun stood and waited for him by the door, but his eyes followed his back the whole way. 

"Quit wasting my time," he muttered, as Akaba returned from bussing the rest of their table. 

"Are you ready to go, then?" Akaba asked as he approached the door.

"Yes! I am not here to screw around playing _games_ with you."

Akaba smiled, and held the door open for Shun to step through. "No, that wouldn't be like you." 

Shun noticed it wasn't a promise to stop, or anything even pretending to approach an apology.  
\---

There was no LDS skyscraper— or if there was, it wasn't where Akaba took him. Instead, it was a mansion, empty entry way that led to halls that led to doors that looked all alike as Akaba listed off what they held behind them. Here was the kitchen, the dining room, Himika's study, Reiji's study, Layra's room, more rooms past that until they reached one Akaba didn't name but entered without a word.

Shun followed him into dark bedroom-- minimalistic. There wasn't much there, just a bed, a dresser, desk and chair. This Reiji's taste was the same as it has always been— he had the was the same modern art installation he'd had in his office, glinting in the dim light like the entire ceiling was a sea of scrap metal or knives. It said something about his mindset that this was a relief.

Akaba sat down at his desk. "As I said, we won't be disturbed here. Now, what you wanted to discuss?" 

A prompt open enough Shun could start anywhere, and he was wary as always. "You called me Kurosaki." 

"Would you prefer Hiiragi?" 

"No." 

"I thought not." Reiji answered with a smile, and pushed his glasses up his nose. 

The whole short exchange had revealed nothing Shun didn't already know from the coffee shop— that somehow, Reiji knew to call him Kurosaki. If he wanted to _know_ what Akaba did, he'd have to ask, but he knew how negotiations with him worked. He would reveal as little as possible, except what worked to his own ends. And right now, Shun had no idea what he wanted. "So what did you take me here for, Akaba? To have company while you sit around with the lights off?"

"The offer was not compulsory. You had and still have the option to refuse." Shun had nothing to say to that and looked away, as Akaba's Duel Disk rang with a communication. He turned from Shun as well, to answer. "I see. I am on my way." He stood and addressed Shun again, "There's been a complication that requires my presence. I will be away for a few hours. It's your decision if you would like to leave while I am gone."

He went to the door, but before he pulled it open he turned to Shun and laid a kiss on his forehead, and then exited out through the door before Shun could do anything more than pull away, still processing.

A minute later, he still wasn't sure he had. " _Dammit_!" He punched the wall, frustration leaking in— more than the kiss, more than anything— he was wrong. Akaba _was_ different, _had_ to be different to have done that. Like Yuzu wasn't Ruri, and Yuya wasn't Ute, this too was wrong.

He should leave. He should leave right now.

Leave the house of the only person that had called him by the right name in days. Reiji who had acted irritatingly _exactly the same_ , until that kiss.

Shun pulled his fist back from the wall and went to collapse on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Fine. When Akaba came back, he'd see if this Akaba was less useless at listening. Even when he didn't _share_ any information, Reiji usually knew _something_ , which was more than any other lead he'd gotten.

\---

5 AM, the room was still dark, the summer sun had no way to invade a windowless room.

Shun's disk showed three missed messages. Hiiragi Yuzu, Hiiragi Yuzu, Hiiragi Yuzu. He hadn't listened to any of her messages past the start of the first one: at the sound of the wrong voice saying nii-san he'd stopped the playback

The door slid open and Akaba Reiji entered. 

"So you decided to stay."

"Obviously." Shun stood to leave the bed and lean back against the wall but Reiji sat down next to him and caught his wrist, to pull him back down besides him. "Why are you—?!"

"Hiiragi Shun and Akaba Reiji are currently dating." 

The third person was unsettling, and cast doubt on if Reiji meant himself or _another_ version. The name being shared between them made it unclear, but Shun was _sure_ that if he asked Akaba if he was Akaba Reiji, the only answer would be yes, and clear up nothing at all. "Fine, but _Kurosaki_ Shun and Akaba Reiji are not."

"No." Akaba agreed. "But as far as the world is concerned, there is no such person as _Kurosaki_ Shun."

Shun shook Reiji's grip from his wrist. "If you're going to just _sit there_ and tell me that I'm not _real_ —"

"No one said that. Only that you're not real to others." 

" _Do you know me, or **not**._ " Shun did stand this time, moving out of Akaba's range.

"Your sister's name is Kurosaki Ruri. You counted a boy with Yuya's face but the name of Ute as a comrade."

"If you had heard enough to know I'm using Kurosaki, you would have heard that as well! _Try again._ "

"Kurosaki. You aren't in the habit of trusting me with personal details." He adjusted his glasses, calmly.

It was true and Shun breathed out an irritated sigh. " _Fine._ Hiiragi Shun and Akaba Reiji are dating, and you have no plans of clarifying _which_ Akaba Reiji you are. Is that all, or should I leave if that's all you have to say?"

"No, I had a question. Do you have any fears, Kurosaki?"

" _I'm not in the habit of trusting you with personal details_ ," he mimicked, spiteful, and Akaba smiled slightly.

"Hiiragi feared losing his sister, and his place in the world. That father of his isn't always the most responsible, and once nearly lost the school to LDS. Hiiragi Yuzu and Shun fought to defend their home."

Shun took a step back and clenched his fists. "Does this have a point?"

"As Kurosaki, you might be more reluctant to share, so I don't expect an answer from you. But being parted from your sister, and home, the worst has come to pass. Do you have anything to lose from staying with me? And I don't question your existence, and have no desire to try and change you."

"The issue isn't _me_ — everything else is what's wrong! It's been _replaced_ —!" he began vehemently and then cut off, aware of how ridiculous and delusional that sounded. 

"I believe you'll have difficulties convincing others of that." It was almost, but not quite, dismissive. Or no, maybe it was just that Akaba had no other forms of honesty than apply salt in quiet wounds, and Shun winced. 

"This isn't the right world. I don't _belong_ here."

Reiji's smile, if anything, was wider. "No, you don't."

\---

In this world and the other, at least it was the same coffee machine, and Akaba's habit hadn't changed. Shun didn't care if what he took from Akaba would be missed either— he'd gotten four hours sleep the night before, and it had been too much. 

It hadn't been a nightmare memory, or a nonsense dream. If anything it was too _real_ , too much like the world he knew to expect than the idyllic daydream world he'd ended up in. He and Ute were in the backstreets of Maiami, climbing up an old disused fire-escape to a boarded off building. They were meeting to exchange information, Shun with access to LDS's cameras, and Ute more frequently out on the streets able to keep a better ear out for rumors that sounded promising.

Ruri, they would surely soon find Ruri.

But he'd woken up in Akaba's mansion bedroom, the time read out on his duel disk displaying 9:40 AM. He'd checked the drawers to change into something— he and Akaba were about the same size, if Shun was slightly less broad, and been discomfitted to realize that there was clothes that fit him _exactly_ in the drawers. Clothes cut in styles he liked, a coat that wasn't quite the same as the one he remembered (it wasn't ruined and ragged, for one thing) but close.

Either Hiiragi had spent the night before, or Akaba was even creepier than he'd imagined.

He took another gulp of his coffee as his disk showed a message-- Yuzu again, but typed this time, instead of voice. He opened it up to read--

"You're so immature! Did you get into a fight with Dad without him noticing again? Because he's really upset, and has no idea what he did. Anyway, I told him you're staying at a friend's, but if you don't get back to me by the end of the day today I'm reporting you missing! (´◣д◢`+) Don't make us worry so much!"

A missing person. . . he didn't want to deal with that. Shun typed back, "At Akaba Reiji's." and hit send.

There were no more messages until he finished his coffee. When the message did come, it was only a few words long: "╭(๑¯д¯๑)╮ Oh, him." He smiled at her disapproval— that was more or less his feelings on Akaba, too. 

Nothing else came, as Akaba walked down the stairs, and started to fix himself coffee. He paused when he saw the smile on Shun's face as he looked down at his duel disk. "Kurosaki?"

"What?" The expression was already off his face. "Were you _checking_ to make sure?"

"No." But he didn't clarify what he _did_ ask for. He sat down one chair away from him, and began flipping through the morning's news. The silence remained until Layra came down the stairs and Reiji broke it to ask him if he'd read his schedule for the day yet, and Shun left to find real food after the coffee.

\---

Reiji left him files— his desktop had a note beside it, with a note that there was a user profile for Kurosaki and the password to access it. The desktop was utterly empty other than the default programs, and a folder labeled "Hiiragi." The inside was a disorganized mess, like everything had been hastily gathered without much thought to organizing. 

Of course, Akaba had better things to do. 

But it made it impossible to wade through the badly labeled files quickly, searching out what was relevant. There was his decklist from a fight he didn't remember having against Shijima Hokuto-- a fight where he'd soundly trounced the LDS duelist. Close to his current list, but not quite. A set of photographs with the Hiiragi girl and her father, training at the You Show school. Yuzu and Shun exasperatedly fond in a photographs of Shuzo in a magician's tails, and the two of them dressed up to match. He felt off balance somehow, even sitting straight in Akaba's computer chair. Yuya photobombing them, making faces in the background. Was it the lack of sleep? Yuzu with her fan out scolding him, and Yuya with a red mark that indicated he'd fallen victim to it, and Shun smirking proudly at Yuzu. 

His stomach dropped.

A photograph of him and Akaba, holding hands, while Shun snarled, red-faced, and grabbed for the camera with his free hand. 

He closed the files, and left. The dizzy light-headed feeling, and the gnawing at his stomach went ignored.

\---

The doorbell rang in the evening, and hammering came from the other side of the front door. Hiiragi Yuzu's voice came through it, loud, clean, and clear. "Nii-san! Open up, it's me!"

He kept thinking of the photographs, the happy family in them. That Yuzu was missing her brother like Shun was missing Ruri, but she didn't even know about it. He could open that door, and lie to her. He could scowl and be annoyed that she didn't trust his decision making skills. Shun would have done that to Ruri, once.

But he knew if he opened the door his face would only have honesty— the look of a man staring at a dearly beloved ghost. Before he'd seen the pictures, it had been easy to be uneasy— wondering if this was a poorly laid trap, a trick. 

But if it was, he wasn't the one being baited. He was the replacement here— Kurosaki Shun was a cheap fake to the Hiiragi Shun that had given her a smile that could outshine the sun. 

Layra stood in the stairwell, clinging to the banister. He'd heard the doorbell as well and stared at Shun, like he was waiting on him to do something, and make it stop. Shun didn't want to talk to Yuzu, but he wasn't so low as to make a child answer the door for him. He pulled up Yuzu's contact and typed in: "What do you want?"

The knocking stopped, momentarily, before she called out again. "Are you really— Nii-san! Talking through the door like this is ridiculous, just open up!" When he didn't respond, he heard her huffing and then a moment later his screen showed a new message. "ヽ(#`Д´)ﾉ  
You're so dumb!"

He slumped against the door to see if she would say anything else, and now that the knocking had stopped Laya had quietly retreated again, back to his room. When it was clear Shun wasn't going to respond, Yuzu sent another message. "Are you ok?"

 

Probably not. He typed back: "Yes."

"Jeez! With answers like that, how do I know someone hasn't stolen your disk?? send me a picture."

"anyone that tried to steal my duel disk would regret it."

She laughed, on the other side of the door and responded aloud. "Okay, that sounds like you. I don't know what you're sulking about, but whatever it is, get over it soon. If Dad's crying floods out the school, I'm making your boyfriend pay the bills for it. We can't afford that at all, you know?"

He didn't respond again, and he heard her sigh, then a scuffing and thud as she kicked the door just once before she left. 

\---

"I hadn't expected you to still be awake when I returned." Akaba said in lieu of a greeting as he shut the door behind him.

"It's all the damn coffee I've been drinking. I don't have the tolerance for it." Shun had reflexively gotten to his feet at the sound of the door opening— always prepared for a confrontation but sat back down on the bed as he saw it was only Akaba. Heartland had prepared him for the battlefield but not _this_ , the mundanity of everyday life. Even his ability to withstand the effects of caffeine— clean water was a precious necessity in Heartland, and coffee was a diuretic. They didn't need to be going through anymore than they could help, but here it was morning ritual and it left Shun wide-eyed later than he suspected it should.

Akaba looked him over and for a moment Shun wasn't sure what he was looking for before it occurred to him. _Hiiragi_ wouldn't have had his problems with caffeine. "I'll have the kitchen stocked with decaf, as well." Akaba said and put down his laptop case.

Akaba's clothes were half-off as he undressed for the night when Shun realized Akaba had completely avoided any mention of the difference between them at all, or answering any of his unanswered questions. The sleep deprivation made him slow, and he let it go. He was in no shape to be verbally sparring with Akaba. He watched Akaba strip down, completely lacking in any self-consciousness. Shun hadn't seen him undressed before, and watched, aware that even if there were any physical marks that showed the difference between this and the other, he wouldn't know it.

He had the feeling, somehow, that this Akaba would know in an instant any differences between Kurosaki and Hiiragi Shun's bodies, with his own eyes.

Reiji pulled on a nightshirt, and walked to the bed— Shun didn't move for a moment as Reiji sat down, then went in further past Shun, to settle in under the sheets. Belatedly, Shun moved to stand— big as this place was, there had to be a guest bedroom _somewhere_. 

But Akaba's hand caught his wrist as he moved to go and Shun snapped his head back to look at what was grabbing him, and untensed when it was only Akaba. Akaba said nothing to acknowledge his action, but hadn't let go either.

After a moment of blearily staring down at Akaba's grip, he sighed, and climbed in beside him. It didn't matter where he slept, here. No matter what, it still wouldn't be home. And unlike Heartland, no one here was likely to attack him in his sleep.

\---

The lights Akaba kept off flicked on like floodlights, and washed the room out in brightness. Shun's eyes took a moment to adjust to the brightness, the sight of his own body in the mirror. The scars he'd borne since the fires destroyed his home, the ones that came later, surviving those three nightmare years in Heartland's shell were all still there.

Just like they weren't supposed to be. What the hell would have caused Hiiragi's body to get this torn up? He remembered the feel of the shrapnel from a blast digging into his chest, the emergency surgery when they pulled the metal shards from his chest and cauterized the wound. What the hell would have put those puncture wounds and burns in place in a normal world? 

"You . . . turned the light on." Akaba interrupted his thoughts, speaking slowly in his early morning haze.

"Yes. Obviously. Did Hiiragi have a habit of getting into car crashes?" Shun stalked back towards the bed.

"What?" His confusion now wasn't caused just by the morning, this was bewilderment and alarm as Reiji sat up straight, staring at him eyes wider than Shun had ever seen.

"A habit. Of getting into. Car crashes." Shun repeated, punctuating his words with pauses, then gestured down to his bare body. "These scars, Akaba! I got them on the battlefield! Don't tell me your _Hiiragi_ walks through mine-fields in his spare time?!"

"Scars?" Akaba blinked, and started feeling about the bed. "My glasses would be helpful, Kurosaki. Without them I can't see what it is you're rambling about."

Taking the red frames from the bedside table Shun thrust them towards him, and Akaba took them from his hand and placed them on his nose. "Now, stop stalling. These scars, where did Hiiragi get them?"

Recovering his vision seemed to also recover his composure, and Akaba's level gaze didn't widen at all at the sight of Shun's war-wounded body. "I never asked."

"What?!"

"Prying only increases your reticence. That is a shared trait of yours." 

Dammit, it was too convenient an excuse and Shun wanted to argue with it but it wasn't as if Hiiragi was here to _ask_. He didn't have any good come-back or way to call Akaba full of shit, but he was _going_ to do that anyway, when Akaba gave him a tired look, and took his glasses back off, onto the nightstand. 

"Take as much time to ponder as you need, but turn that light out. Unlike you, I don't have the luxury of a lack of responsibility, and do need to return to work tomorrow." 

Maybe it was just the lack of sleep wearing on him, but something in his voice sounded worn thin. It wasn't a tone he'd heard from Akaba before, and it stopped Shun from pushing him further— _this_ Akaba had even less reasons to cooperate with him than his own did, in the absence of a shared goal. It was only his shared face and name that motivated this Reiji. 

He did as he was asked, without arguing, and hovered in the doorway, remembering Akaba's hand at his wrist. However Hiiragi got those scars, now Reiji would never find out. 

Shun slipped back into bed, next to him.

\---

He woke to a notification of his disk, words displayed across its screen asking him "Are you coming back today?"

A new message from Yuzu Hiiragi. Shun looked down at the duel disk and up at the clock. Recent. If he let it sit too long, he could imagine her, willful and irritated showing up on Akaba's front doorstep again. While Akaba could definitely afford security, Shun wasn't eager to have to _beg_ Akaba's favor to get rid of "his" sister— and she was close enough to Ruri in looks that the thought of it made him feel vaguely ill. He typed back in response, "No." and then thought better of it-- that alone wouldn't be enough to get her to leave it with that as the end of it, he knew from even the few days he'd known her. "I don't want to stay at the You Show School right now."

It was honest. Maybe more than she had expected-- her answer was slow in coming back, it was a few minutes until she did. Though, he then noticed the time-- Yuzu should be in class right now. It had been so long since he'd been a student himself, that'd he'd forgotten the schedule. Not _how_ the schedule worked, but forgotten it all together, that someone her age _should_ be in classes. "Something's bothering you? About the school? I know Dad can be a flake, but you can depend on me if you need anything. You're my big brother, but I'm Strong enough to help, if you need anything. 0(｀・ω・´)=〇 " 

The Strong written in katakana echoed of some private joke that she expected him to know, and it only made him firmer in his resolve. No, the differences between his world and this world was _his_ problem. If everything worked out, Yuzu wouldn't have to learn she was missing her brother, the one that she'd shared those jokes with, the one that she'd promised to help. It felt shameful to even be deceiving her now. He typed back again, "You are. I'll go there when I'm ready."

"That you're not protesting makes me worry more. ｢(ｰﾍー;) Who are you and what did you do to my brother?"

His insides froze. It was only a joke but he felt furious— at himself,for not _being_ the brother she expected. He'd hated Fusion destroying his town but more than that _his family_ , and here he was doing the same thing. When he didn't respond, another note came. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Not at all. This world was a dream he'd never asked for, and it was expected a person who wasn't him. But he didn't know what to say, other than the most basic form of the truth. "I don't belong there right now."

"ok."

Then, a few seconds afterward, a second message came. "Is this about the wanting to go by Kurosaki stuff?"

Another message. "I know you're not really into the entertainment duel like Dad is, but I don't think it's wrong to want to do things your own way. You don't have to leave the family, even if you even if you don't want to stay with the school. I don't think even _I'm_ into entertainment as much as he is. I just really can't stand to lose. (≧ヘ≦ ) You're even more competitive than I am, but you're not hurting anyone with it, by doing it differently. Even if it's not what he expects, its still all right."

He had no idea about anything she was talking about, other than the vague background information he'd osmosed during his time in standard about entertainment dueling, and his few days in the Hiiragi household. But the last words-- Yuzu saying he wasn't hurting anyone, that even if he wasn't as was expected it was all right. He typed back, "Is it?" and then powered his disk down.

He didn't need _comfort_. This place was throwing him off, dangling echoes of a home he'd long lost, giving him a feeling a family he'd long known he couldn't reclaim and telling him it was all there, waiting for him. The only person who had any idea he was different was Akaba, who laughably was somehow the only person that seemed to be the same. He was depending on that distance, Akaba's usual infuriating manner and opacity to anchor him and remind him that this was no place to be comfortable— that things were still _wrong_ , and he was living in someone else's shoes, shoved into a space he had no business pretending to belong.

When he powered on his disk again, later, it showed he had no further messages from Yuzu.

\---

Shun spent the day going through videos of Hiiragi's duels— it was impossible to find anything of him in short sleeves. His scars remained a mystery— there was no hint of when they appeared to be found in any of them. 

But it was still strange going through them, the excavation of a life he never led. In Heartland anytime left to dream had been better spent planning, not chasing wisps of never was. Now it was all he could do to keep his head above water, as the world tried to drown him a deluge of an impossible _normal_ life. The more he watched the more it damned him. It was easier to believe now that maybe he was just crazy— Hiiragi was too much alike. His strategies were similar, his athletics, his serious focus on battle. He remembered the typed conversation with Yuzu too— that it was all right to be part of their family, even if he was different. He had felt like he was wrecking things there, their peace. It was easy to imagine Hiiragi felt the same. 

But if Hiiragi was the kind of man to delusionally give himself nightmares of burning flesh to avoid facing his father, his sister, then run away to stay in his boyfriend's house. . . Then Hiiragi was the kind of man Kurosaki Shun couldn't stand.

Even if it looked more and more that they were the same.

\---

In the evening when Reiji opened the door Shun's fist stopped a hair's breath from his gut and Reiji's eyes were wide and he stepped back. Shun stepped back too, and confined his arms at his side. "Knock. Don't intrude like that," Shun ordered, disgruntled. The more normal things get, the more he jumped at shadows, waiting for it to shatter. And wanting to shatter it himself, maybe.

"Impressive reflexes." Reiji said, absolutely unabashed. "Should you need a recommendation for employment in the future, I would be willing to put a word in for your suitability for night watch." Shun shot him a glare, but Reiji's neutral face revealed not a trace of smugness.

"Buy a guard dog if you want one. That's not what I'm here for." He stalked away and Reiji followed him, close enough that his hair prickled on the back of his neck. His instincts said to be on guard, when he was followed. His memories said being followed entailed something more sinister than a certain obnoxious CEO having no sense of human behavior and personal space. He gritted his teeth. If Hiiragi did this to himself, he'd been thorough. 

"No. There's something you want out of this arrangement." Reiji acknowledged. His eyes strayed ahead even as his pace kept him half a step behind Shun, and he opened the door to the video room before Shun could lay his hand on the door handle. "Information on Hiiragi, again?"

He was already queasy from watching his dopple-ganger all afternoon, and shook his head sharply. "No. How good is your medical knowledge?" His own was suspect now— he'd learned it, like everything else, on the battlefield. But with these thoughts of all of that as a delusion, it left his knowledge questionable.

"If you need a doctor—"

"No. I am physically fit." Shun took off his jacket, much less ragged than the one he'd had in his memories. Which makes sense— he'd taken it from Akaba's drawers. "Scarring patterns. I'm going to tell you where I got these, and you will tell me if they're consistent with how you would expect those wounds to look." He pulled off his shirt next, and dropped it on the ground.

Akaba pushed his glasses further up his nose, watching Shun undress studiously.

"Closer, Akaba!" He ordered, annoyed. If they were supposedly dating, Akaba had no reason to be squeamish about nudity in proximity. "You're not going to see anything at a distance."

"I could call a doctor," Akaba offered again.

If he was the real Kurosaki Shun, he doesn't want Hiiragi coming back to find his medical records are all now wrong, recording someone else. If he's not, he doesn't want his insanity engraved on his files, either. He glared and said firmly, " _No._ "

This time, Akaba took his answer and moved closer— closer than Shun had expected. He tensed as Akaba had taken _closer_ to mean no distance between them at all. Kneeling, he brushed his hands across Shun's chest, the texture of the celloid scars, across burn-discolored planes of flesh, and irregular star-burst pockmarks where he'd been punctured. His hand stopped at one, a simple slice across his skin. "Begin with this one."

Where they begin made no difference to Shun. "Fine." It took a moment to coax the memory to the surface, one of many memories of many many scars. "A direct attack from an Antique Gear monster." It was early in the days of invasion — their decks were all standardized and it hadn't become a weakness to them yet. "I was thirteen," he explained, looking down at the scar— bigger now than it had been then. It had stretched longer as he'd grown, and Akaba nodded— either signalling him to continue or that to his eyes it seemed like a scar that old to him, as well.

Shun continued, "It happened early in battle. I had to duel the rest of it with my lifepoints only a few hundred from zero." Even after a trap card to negate as much damage as possible, he'd barely survived. The terror that he'd die from bloodloss, before his soul was taken had left him shaking and weak. "I lost a lot of blood before it could be sutured." He'd carded his opponent at the end— stolen his first soul. He'd been too weak to make an escape, otherwise. "I was told I was lucky that the gash was only long, not deep, or it would have severed a ligament." And left him a burden to the resistance, unable to use his arm to duel.

Despite leaving out everything of the story but the barebones of the information relevant to the wound, Akaba listened intently. He felt along the edges of the claw-rent, where scar tissue met flesh delicately. Shun was _sure_ this wasn't a medical technique, it was just Akaba being handsy because he misses his fucking boyfriend. But as long as Akaba does what's asked, he doesn't care. He waited through it stoically, looking away.

A moment later, Akaba answered, "There's only one Antique Gear monster with the claws to cause this— a fusion ace." 

So the card at least _existed_ in this world too. "That's all you've come up with, after all that groping?" 

"Impatient, Kurosaki. I wasn't finished." Shun grits his teeth as Akaba stayed silent a moment longer, _probably_ just to make his irritating point. "The solid vision from the Arenas here are not as advanced as what you recall fusion having. Monsters cannot be generated away from the arena. It is not a portable technology. But within the usage of the feild, there is varying levels of realism in the damage that can be inflicted. Juniors have the spongey and least realistic damage— with your father's owning the best of LDS's current systems, it is fully possible for wounds with this much realism to be inflicted. It depends on your own preferences for the setting of the arenas."

An answer that answered nothing at all. He turned around to show Akaba his back.

"Fine. Another."

Akaba put his hands on Shun's back, again and this time he didn't tense. Those careful hands that made no illusions of professionalism _had_ to be part of the here and now. Unlike the long gone past, there was no question of if this had happened, was happening. The only person in his life that would have touched him like this was right in front of him.

As Akaba's hands traced the edges of where he'd lost feeling to the numbness of scar tissue, with an almost reverent touch, he asked without thinking, "How long have you been waiting on Hiiragi letting you do this?" and was rewarded with a flat stare, then a slow superior smile.

Only after seeing that did he realize he'd been hoping for a flinch. His cheeks heated, and he looked away.

\---

In the morning Akaba woke with Shun on top of him, his legs wrapped around his hips, his hair hanging down in his face. Intense yellow eyes filled his vision for only a moment before Shun's lips were on his, kissing him fiercely. He is voracious where he's inexperinced, and kisses like bruising. Kisses something like devouring, like there's something he wants from inside Reiji and this is the only way he knows to take it. There's more pressure from his lips before he thinks to use his tongue and Akaba, only half-awake, kisses back like he's done this before.

He probably has, and probably with _him_ and the thought is almost enough to make Shun recoil back but he doesn't. He grips his hands on Akaba's shoulders and digs his nails in as an anchor— or if it's a reprisal, he doesn't think of it until after he's done it and his grip is too tight to take back. Akaba only leans up into it and opens to Shun more, to let his tongue plumb his mouth's depths, his own tongue tangling with it. It's sensitive— he makes a noise— his body canvased in scar tissue he'd thought pain numbed him but apparently _pleasure_ had never gotten the memo.

His breath comes heatedly in gasps and he has to pull away. He looks down at Reiji's face, who has a smug superior smile— _damn him_ and he responds, "Good morning, Kurosaki."

He glared. "You could tell?"

"You're not as experienced."

"Fuck you!" He climbed off Reiji, onto the edge of the bed.

"You were adamant you weren't Hiiragi when you came here. You said you don't belong here."

"I don't," he replied stonily, not looking back.

Reiji reached over to get his glasses, and looked at Shun's scar-mapped back, tracing them with his eyes like before he'd traced them with his fingers. His smile didn't change. "Do you _want_ to belong here, then, Kurosaki?"

Shun didn't answer, but neither did he push away, when Reiji reached over, and laced his fingers with his.

\---

Akaba Reiji watched Shun pick out his clothes from Hiiragi's wardrobe. Less sedate today, closer to the taste he remembered Hiiragi had. Maybe it was subconscious influence from the tapes he'd been watching, or possibly it was intentional.

Shun had asked, a few days before, if Hiiragi had a habit of getting in car crashes.

The truth was, he hadn't needed a habit. Just once had been enough.

Reiji changed into his casual clothes for the day— no work on the weekends, and put a hand on Shun's shoulder from behind as he fixed coffee from the machine. This time, he barely jumped as Reiji asked, "I can start using Hiiragi, now, if you'd prefer."


End file.
